


this little rodeo in the stars

by onlyeli



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforus (Homestuck), Mind Honey, Mituna Captor's Accident, Other, Typing Quirks, as a painkiller as is canon typical for tuna /:, be warned i truly believe that kurloz played a big part in the accident, or like. directly afterwards at least, so his relationship w tuna isnt Great in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-17 21:48:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21650290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyeli/pseuds/onlyeli
Summary: i've always had no brain and two hearts.Mituna saves everyone.
Relationships: Mituna Captor & Kurloz Makara, Mituna Captor/Latula Pyrope
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	this little rodeo in the stars

You wake up sore, in arms that you know the same way you know a dream - distant and murky, a sparking familiarity that should reassure you but doesn’t, really. Thin fingers rake softly through the mop of curls between your twin horns, pulling the thatch of hair from over your eyes in a therapeutically consistent rhythm. Whatever panic had flashed through your stomach and shoulders upon coming around is almost immediately soothed away by the gentle papping gesture.

Kurloz is still with you.

You register distantly that you’re shaking a little, knees and palms trembling like you’re stuck somewhere unsteady. That can’t be true: you’re with Kurloz. No one is steadier than him.

‘wh4t d1d you do to h1m?’ someone is asking. You wonder why they sound so distraught – everything should be fine. You went to make sure that everything was fine, didn’t you? You must have done what you needed to do. Everything is quieter than… Than something, than you feel like you should be allowed, than you feel like you're used to. There’s too little noise for you to think straight. You keep your eyes closed.

Kurloz shifts. He must be uncomfortable, trying to explain with no mouth to do so. You’re usually the one that explains for him, you think. He’s very important to you, you think. 

You can’t settle on one reality. Something scratches between your eyes, a thin whitehot splinter of thought, and you shoot into a sitting position, fingers splayed, frantic. 

‘HL3P1NFG, W3 W3R3E H3LP1GN, F12X3D 17, F1X3D…’ you know exactly what you’re trying to say, but can’t hold onto the words. They drift away, through your crooked teeth and straight past your sincere attempt at truth. You watch them go, distracted and spacey. Everyone stares at you, startled, but mostly horrified. Mostly upset. Why are they upset? You fixed it. You saved them. Why aren’t they grateful?

Stupid fucking bulgebrains. Don't they understand? Don't they take you seriously? 

You start to get angry.

‘WHS47 7H3 FUCKIGNG FUFCLK 4R3 Y0O0U 4LL L00K1GGN 47?’ you demand, whipping your head around to survey the crowd. Kurloz gently wiggles his fingers against your scalp. You fight the urge to shove him off. ‘G0 FFUCKIGN F1LLIL Y0UR N00KS.’ 

Something wet dribbles out of the corner of your mouth, sticky and golden. Are you drooling? You attempt to wipe your face, but misjudge something awful and smack yourself straight in the jaw. You howl in pain and irritation, throwing yourself backwards, into Kurloz’s chest, determined to tell the world to fuck off until you feel better. Everything is so murky, now, but too sharp at the same time. When you’re more awake, things will stop being so fragmented, so broken and twisted and sparking.

‘fl1ptun4?’ 

Click buzz fizz. Latula. You sit up again.

‘TUL1P.’ 

You know her. You pity her. Your face flushes. Had she seen you slobbering all over yourself? 

‘you g4v3 h1m m1nd hon3y? what th3 h3ll 1s wrong w1th you, dud3?’ 

Oh, who’s been eating mind honey? You only use that for really bad injuries, brainaches, burnouts. Who’s hurt? You try to sit up again but get lost in your own flailing limbs. Getting one foot firmly on the floor is an accomplishment, and you allow yourself to be very proud of doing so for a good minute. You bare your teeth in what you think is a grin and pull on Kurloz’s sleeve so he sees what you did. He pats at your fingers, eyes still fixed on Latula.

Latula. Latula! 

‘TUL1P! WNEN7 70 HL3P 3V33RY80DY. W3 W3N7 70 H3LP.’ She must remember. Your visions, your terrible knowledge, your overflow. 

She looks at you. Something is wrong with her face. You’re upset again.

‘50RRY,’ you try. Maybe that will fix things. Maybe that will make this better.

She glances over her shoulder at the others. You can’t look at them – their faces give you a special kind of vertigo. They’re all blending together. You know them, somehow, but can’t name the bodies as they loom and shift. They all look so uncomfortable. What the fuck is wrong with them? You snap your teeth and hurt your tongue, thrashing in Kurloz’s grip as you spit more ichor and ooze. 

Oh. 

You’re hacking up honey, feeling it drip down your chin as you writhe. How embarrassing. ‘NGAH,’ you complain, wanting to clean yourself off, but finding that you’re unable to force your arm to find its way through the murk towards your chin. Your eyesight is wrong, but so subtly that you can’t snap up the problem. Are you hurt? Did you get hurt while you helped? How much of the honey have you eaten? You start to feel sick. Lurching over one of Kurloz’s bent knees, you heave and splutter desperately.

‘Perhaps we sh9uld 6ack up. He’s clearly distressed,’ someone says, sounding more level than Latula looks. You suck in a breath and hurt your chest, like air isn’t allowed inside anymore. Having your eyes open has started to hurt. You close them and turn back to the crowd, fingers splayed and shaking. 

‘1 D1D 17,’ you insist. ‘F1XC3D 17 F0R Y0U 53475TH5UCKR35. I FIX3DG… 1 F1XXX33D–’

Someone breathes a gasp as you flip yourself over, on your side and accusing. Your hair falls from your face and you open your eyes, blue and red and wide, determined to show them. ‘F1XGE3D.’

They stare at something you can’t see. 

‘wh4t’s wrong w1th h1m?’ Latula demands. You start to get a little panicky. Is something wrong with you? Why can’t you feel – why can’t you – why –

‘KURL0Z,’ you whimper, scrabbling your claws along the wire in his mouth. If he minds, if it hurts, it doesn’t show. He reaches for your hand and holds it between both of his own, silent and steady and smiling. He turns that serene grin on Latula. Her face goes slack, for just a second. The murmuring crowd falls mostly silent. 

After that, you don’t remember much.

**Author's Note:**

> i looove mituna captor. this is super old but ive been wanting to post sm for ages and just dont have the TIME for anything new woe is me


End file.
